Dave Harrity

Declares Himself

 

 

saying that what comes (if it comes at all)

comes in fragments                flesh naked stands

crossing in the mirror barking commands

for razor & brush or singing poor-me songs

through corner mouthhair sprouts or concern

for what the neighbors might think & her yelling

at him to come down off his fukken cross

so someone else could use the goddamn wood 

 

but devotion’s clear

the frayed & steady knees of pilgrims with slacked mouths

& oh-my-gods & sweet bee stings

& ringing ears & ribboned backs

 

the truth of it comes in dreamy slices

(if it comes at all) & if I could I’d simply draw a map for you

penciled lines to where coins

stay buried & all these treasures contained in us

 

& what I want to know that crumples away

in X-ed out days or light twinkle-trapped

inside a globe of glass to swirl 

 

& white clouds silver above the sleepy barn

or the crack & christened thunder croaks

 

or the bucket of hair he’d keep beside the washing tub

 

& I want nothing more than to save us

simply from our bellies or but just not a thing

   except forgotten so why & why & why I can’t can I

 

 

 

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